


To Love a Wolf

by bedb



Category: Marvel 1872
Genre: F/M, Natasha cares for him, Natasha misses James, Red Wolf is shot in ambush, affection and sex knows no color when you are lonely, they get it on, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 15:35:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,738
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5095943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bedb/pseuds/bedb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha Barnes misses her husband. Tending the wounded sheriff arouses some emotions she had sought to suppress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Love a Wolf

The canyon was high walled with a narrow trail running through it that left Natasha feeling like a sitting duck as she rode behind Red Wolf, whose constantly sweeping dark eyes told her that he was thinking the same thing, Four months now as his deputy, four months of protecting each other’s back and forging a friendship. She trusted him implicitly, and she hoped he felt the same way about her.

Sensing something was amiss he reined in his paint and turned in the saddle to speak with her. “We need to go back,” he said and let his restless eyes run along the rim of the canyon. “I don’t see anyone ahead, and if there was an injured man down here, we should have seen him by now.”

“We can find him from the rim, if he even exists,” Natasha agreed and backed her leggy sorrel slowly towards a place where the walls weren’t right against them. She was turning around when she spotted the three men above them. “Wolf!”

Gun and rifle fire exploded. If the men on the rim thought they’d be easy to kill, they were mistaken. Natasha’s Henry barked savagely and took down one man instantly, the body toppling head first into the canyon. Red Wolf’s .45 did its own damage, and the third man wounded by one of them fled.

“Sons of bitches!” Natasha growled and nudged Sierra out of the turn around her eyes never leaving the canyon rim. “I bet they work for Avery.” She stopped when she noticed Wolf was sitting funny in the saddle. “Wolf, are you all right?”

He looked up and the pain in his black eyes scared her. Jumping off the sorrel, she ran to him. “Stay up, stay up,” she pleaded, afraid that if he fell off she would not be able to move him. Blood stained his shirt above his belt buckle and soaked his left shoulder. “Stay up,” she repeated and jerked a coil of rope off one of the saddle rings. Using the rope she tied his feet to the stirrups and then his hands to the saddle horn. “Stay with me Wolf, stay with me.”

“Do my best,” he whispered hoarsely.

Grabbing the paint’s reins, Natasha mounted her horse and put spurs to him. Half rearing the sorrel lunged forward and broke into a gallop, the paint following. Afraid to look back she didn’t stop until they were drawing rein in front of Stark’s Shoppe. “Mr. Stark!” she yelled and flung herself out of the saddle. “Mr. Stark!” 

His new assistant Miss Pepper Potts ran outside to see what was wrong. “Oh my God! Tony! Come quick! The sheriff is hurt!”

With Stark’s help they got Red Wolf inside the building and on to a cot in the back. Modesty be damned, Natasha and Pepper got the dying sheriff undressed while Tony ran around his shop looking for any supplies that would stop the bleeding. 

“The bullet’s still inside him,” Pepper said. “We need the forceps and small spreaders.”

“On it!” Tony responded after dropping off the compounds and strips of white sheet. 

Natasha sat at Wolf’s head and watched as Mr. Stark and Pepper examined the wounds with an eye towards the best way to treat him. “We’ve got to get that bullet out,” Stark said and sat up straight. “Nurse,” he told Pepper, “get me the rye under the counter in the washroom.”

“What are you going to do with that?” Natasha asked suspiciously.

“Antiseptic. Cleans away any germs that might be in the wound,” Stark explained.

Natasha said nothing else as Stark took the bottle from Pepper and poured a shot glass full of whiskey into the belly wound, the run off staining the sheet beneath Wolf and the one covering his groin. She was momentarily startled when Wolf’s hand moved towards hers. Realizing he was fading in and out of consciousness, she grabbed his hand and held on. 

Stark opened the wound with the spreaders, locked them in place and passed them to Pepper who would keep them steady. Then with the greatest of care he felt around for the bullet. Wolf, awake enough to feel the pain, panted silently, and opened his eyes to stare into Natasha’s.

“Just another second,” she assured him and tried to smile, her thoughts running unbidden towards her late husband. Bending over, her words just for him, she said, “Don’t die on me Wolf. Don’t die on me.” He couldn’t speak but she was sure he moved his head. 

The second wound was easier to take care of. The bullet had passed through Wolf’s shoulder and out the space above his collar bone. Homemade cat gut sutures tied the wounds off and clean sheet acted as dressing. Wolf silently passed out.

“He never made a sound,” Pepper finally spoke up. “Not a sound.”

“N’din people are taught from little babies to be quiet,” Natasha explained. “Wolf told me that one time I had to remove a splinter from his hand.” She wanted to wash the blood and whiskey off his exposed skin but Stark suggested it would be better to let him sleep awhile before fussing over him.

“He’s welcome to stay there tonight,” Stark said as closing time came. “You staying with him?”

“Yes,” Natasha said from her seat in the old rocking chair.

“Then I’ll leave the broth on the stove,” Pepper said as she wrapped her head in a shawl. Natasha thanked her with a nod. 

“Locking the door behind us,” Stark said. “If you need to get out, the back door can be unlocked from the inside.”

“Thank-you,” Natasha called back at them. She could hear the key turn in the lock and then silence. Closing her eyes she tried to not think of her husband’s last minutes. Trying to distract herself, she got up and walked around the shop looking at all the gadgets and gizmos on the work benches. 

As it got later she checked Wolf’s dressing for any signs of fresh blood by lifting the quilt Pepper had covered him with. Dark stains now. For a moment her lonely thoughts saw more than her friend; she saw a strong man brought low by low lying skunks. Wolf was handsome in a strong lean way. Where the sun touched his skin, he was the color of warm copper. She imagined he was hot like the sun as well.

He stirred and opened his eyes. Seeing it was her, he smiled. “Just checking,” she said and dropped the quilt. “Looks like it’s quit bleeding.”

He dipped his chin and then whispered, “Water.”

“Oh God, yes!” she exclaimed and grabbed the canteen hanging off the back of the rocking chair. Sitting at his shoulder, she helped him hold his head up while he took a drink of water. He was thirsty and took a big drink. “Not too much,” she cautioned him.

He heeded her advice and laid his head back down. “Did we get them all?” he asked barely above a whisper.

“One got away,” she said, “but I got a good look at him. Tomorrow I’ll hunt him down.”

“Don’t go by yourself.”

“I’ll send a message to Sam,” she assured him.

“You better,” he whispered and closed his eyes.

Natasha sat in the rocking chair and closed her eyes. Sleep was slow coming, but she eventually passed into the peace of pleasant dreams. Only the sound of Wolf moaning in his sleep late in the night awakened her. “Wolf, wolf, what’s wrong?” she asked and moved to his cot.

He wasn’t aware of what he was doing and desperately grabbed her. Strange words fell from his fevered lips that she recognized as belonging to his people. Holding her seemed to sooth him. Stroking his face she could feel the fever racking his body. Reaching down she tried to pull the blanket up higher. Fatigued she decided to lie beside him. She could warm him and get some sleep at the same time.

Wolf’s fever did not abate anytime soon, Burning hot but cold at the same time, he shivered uncontrollably beside her. Rested enough to tend to him, she held him close and made sure the blanket covered his shoulders. She didn’t want to cry, but she couldn’t help but fear she was losing him. Holding his head against her shoulder, she stroked his cheek. “Don’t die on me, Wolf. Please don’t die on me.”

She was dozing when Stark unlocked the door and entered his shop. “Natasha?” he called out.

“Here,” she answered and tried to untangle herself from Wolf’s strong arms. He felt cooler, but she couldn’t be certain. Stark and Pepper entered the small back room. “He was fevered,” she explained and got herself free.

“I make no judgements,” Stark replied with a smile. “That and you have your clothes on. If I was going to molest someone I’d at least undress for it.” Pepper hit him. “Ow!”

“Go get some breakfast. I’ll look after him,” Pepper offered.

Natasha needed to get away for a bit and accepted it. Clean clothes and food sounded good to her. She was back in an hour. Wolf was awake and taking soup from Pepper. “Feeling better?” she asked him with a smile on her face, although for some reason she resented that Pepper was the one giving him soup.

“Still light headed,” he admitted.

“Blood loss and a touch of fever,” Stark explained. “I’ve made up a concoction of willow bark tea that is keeping the fever at bay.”

Natasha smiled, wishing Pepper would let her help Wolf. Pulling up a chair, she sat at the side of the bed and watched. 

“Does it hurt a lot?” she finally asked.

“Enough,” he answered and held his hand up. He was finished for the time being. Lying back on the pillows, he waited for Pepper to leave before asking Natasha, “Did you lay beside me last night?”

“You were cold,” she answered.

“I thought I remembered that. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said with a smile. 

That evening Wolf was moved into a room in Natasha’s house. Sam Wilson, in town after receiving word that Wolf had been shot, helped her move him. “I’m not a complete invalid,” the sheriff protested as Sam and Stark carried him upstairs in a chair.

“Be quiet and let us help you,” Sam growled.

“Actually if he feels he can walk upstairs, I’m all for it,” Stark retorted.

“We’re almost there,” Sam snapped back. 

Wolf moved from the straight back chair to a comfortable one with the help of Natasha and Pepper. Once he was settled with an assortment of herbs and their use left with Natasha, everyone retired. Although it was comfortable and safe, Wolf couldn’t help but feel he was imposing a little.

“I appreciate this, but I could have stayed at the jail,” he said as Natasha drew some water at the small kitchen pump for some hot tea.

“Not with Avery trying to kill us,” she replied. Putting the kettle on the wood burning stove that she had heated up earlier, she took her tea container out of the kitchen cabinet and set it on the counter. “You drink tea, don’t you?”

“Not something I’m familiar with,” Wolf replied.

“You’ll like it,” she assured him with a smile. She stayed in the kitchen until the tea was ready. “Sugar or cream?”

“How would I know?” he asked with a smile.

“True. Let’s add some sugar,” she said and gave him a teaspoon of sugar in his cup. Carrying it to him, she checked him over with a quick glance to make sure there was no blood. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he answered and took a sip of tea. “Not bad.”

“But?”

“But?” he repeated puzzled by her response.

“You like coffee better?” she answered. “James preferred coffee to tea.”

“I drink whatever I’m offered,” he said and took another sip of tea. After a long moment, he said, “I wish I had known your husband.”

“He was a good man,” she said. “I think you would have liked each other.” She was certain of it but withheld additional comment. “You never mention your family.”

He gazed thoughtfully into the cup before saying, “I lost my wife several years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

He looked up and smiled. “It was years ago.”

“You’re not that old,” she teased.

He smiled again. “No, but I was fourteen when I married.”

That explained it. “And there’s been no one sense?”

“I just never found a point in it,” he replied and set the cup aside. His wound was beginning to ache sharply. “Is there a place where I can lie down?”

“Yes, of course,” she replied and got up to help him move into the guest room. It wasn’t much of a guest room, but it did have a bed larger than a cot in it. That night when the fever returned, she made the willow bark tea and sat beside Wolf and helped him sip it. Solid foods were out of the question, but she was able to get and keep liquids in side of him. 

When the fever abated he stared out the small window across from the bed. Not much to see, but he could hear the birds and smell the fresh air. Insisting that Natasha not abandon her duties to the town as one of its two deputies, he spent most of the day light hours alone. Natasha devised a whistle that let him know she was nearby. If he was awake and heard her he would return the melody to her. 

Sam helped out enormously. When Natasha had to ride out and see about something, he would keep an eye on Wolf. Visiting with him for lunch, the full time rancher part time deputy shared some fried tatters and eggs with him.

“You need to get well,” Sam teased him as he set the plates on a small table he had placed beside the bed. Glass of cold tea completed the hastily prepared meal.

Momentarily pressing his hand against his belly as he sat up, Red Wolf sighed noisily and said, “I’m getting stronger, but it hasn’t closed completely. Stark thinks at least another week or two.”

“No, no, I’m not meaning you need to hurry up and get well that way, I mean Natasha has become fond of you, and I’m afraid she’s going to stake you out back if you try to get away.” Seeing Wolf’s confused expression, he explained, “She’s going to make a pet out of you.”

Wolf smiled as he dug into the eggs. “I like her too.” Glancing up, he frowned a moment and asked, “She hasn’t said anything to you?”

“Oh hell no. I teased her this morning and I thought she was going to shoot me.”

“She still misses her husband,” Wolf said and continued eating.

“I think there’s something else she misses.”

Wolf glanced up again with a frown on his face. “What did you say?”

“Nothing at all, nothing at all.”

Wolf ate a few more bites and then said, “Don’t say anything bad about her. I wouldn’t be here without her help, and I know there are some folks talking about a white woman letting an Indian man stay at her house.”

“Oh hell, Natasha don’t care what the old hens say. She was a bandit when she met Jim Barnes. But don’t you discount her affections for you. That’s all I’m saying.”

A whistle outside told the men that Natasha was back. Wolf smiled and whistled back. A few minutes later she was coming through the door with a big grin on her face. “You are not going to believe what we found,” she said and made herself some tea in the kitchen.

“What did you find?” Wolf asked as she returned to the back room and sat on the bed beside him, unaware of the eye roll that Sam gave Wolf.

“That mare that was supposedly stolen had strayed to give birth. Prettiest little white colt that you’ve ever seen.”

“Aw that’s good,” Sam said as he finished his lunch. “You want something?”

“No, Mrs. Hedge fixed me some beans and cornbread,” she said and fixed sharp eyes on the sheriff. “How you feeling?”

“Much better, thank you.”

“He’s awful polite,” Sam spoke up as he climbed to his feet and carried his plate into the kitchen, “If you’re back for a while, I’ll take my turn at the office,” he called from the door and was gone before she could answer. 

Silence fell over the back room as Wolf finished eating and Natasha found herself sitting on the bed without their friendly gossip and chaperone to sit with them. When Wolf finished she took his plate and carried it back to the kitchen and rinsed it off. Returning to her own room, she dug through the chest of drawers for another one of James’ shirts. The one Wolf was wearing was getting ripe. Time to take their clothes down to the laundry.

“I think a change of clothes is in order,” she said and returned to the room. “I’ll get a pan of clean water so you can wash up.”

“Thank you,” he said and removed the soiled shirt. Natasha set the clean clothes on the bed and hurried into the kitchen for the water. When she returned he was standing and skinning the trousers down. When he was sick this did not bother her, but standing before her was a beautiful man in all his glory.

Pretending it meant nothing, she set the basin on the table. “I’ll be right back with a rag and some soap.” Hurrying back to her room, she told herself that she was just lonesome, why she was staring at her friend like he was piece of meat.

“Natasha, do you anymore bandages?”

“I think so, let me look,” she answered and dropped off the soap and rag. Wolf was unwinding the stained dressing, although some of the stained pieces were stuck to his wound. “Lie down and put the rag over the stuck dressing. Water might loosen it up.”

He grunted his agreement and sat on the bed. She heard him wetting the rag as she hurried to find more of Stark’s bandages. When she returned he was lying on the bed with the rag resting over his abdomen. For the first time she noticed just how pale his skin was around his pelvis and hips.  
“You’re almost as white as I am,” she teased and sat on the edge of the bed. Lifting the rag she gently pulled it away from the healing wound. 

He smiled but laid perfectly still as she checked the wound over for any seepage or blood. “We can be modest,” he politely informed her. “Should I pull a sheet over myself now?”

Natasha glanced up, surprised by the comment. His reason for making her uncomfortable had nothing to do with his nudity. He was a handsome man and she was lonesome. He would have made her uncomfortable in a buffalo hide rug. Gazing back down at his abdomen she said, “I miss a man in my bed and I’m lonesome. You remind me of that, and it wouldn’t matter what you wore or didn’t.” She ended the statement with a casual shrug. “It looks good. Go ahead and bathe, and I’ll rewrap it when you are finished.” She got up and headed towards the door. Behind her he said, “I’m lonesome, too,” For a moment she stopped and looked back at him, her eyes wild with emotion. Unable to say what was tormenting her, she fled the room.

Being clean felt good and having clean clothes on was a rare treat. Wolf did not put the shirt on because she was going to put fresh bandages on him. He brought them with him when he left the room to find her. Natasha was seated by the window in her rocking chair staring out the window.  
She stood up without speaking and moved to the center of the room where she wrapped the clean sheet around his waist.

“Will it hurt you?” she asked with a strange hitch in her voice.

‘It’s better,” he answered, his arms up as she finished by pinning the ends to each other.

She stood up and grabbed his face, pulling it down to hers. The kiss surprised him but he quickly surrendered to it. Releasing him she took his hand and led him to her bed. It felt so good to be held by a strong man, to feel his hands caress her body while she kissed his. His skin browned by the sun reminded her of the mesas and buttes of his homeland a deep burnt copper. Her hand so white against his skin moved eagerly down his lean body. He gasped when she squeezed him. 

Sliding him inside her she shuddered at the strength of her need. Like riding a stallion. She moved against him, taking what she needed while returning the pleasure he desired. His warm hands on her breasts drove her passions. When the need had grown so strong that she could no longer hold it back, she surrendered to it with a silent scream. The stallion hungry for his own release moved her over on her hands and knees and claimed her again. Natasha closed her eyes as he ignored whatever pain he felt and pounded into her, As silent as she had been he came desperately and collapsed across her back.

He rested a second before rolling off her. Drawing her close and holding her in his arms, he whispered, “We can tell no one about this.” She cuddled against his side wanting desperately to disagree with him, but she couldn’t. Timely might tolerate their unique law enforcement, but there were fewer people willing to accept a White woman and an Indian as lovers,

“I don’t want this to be the only time,” she whispered against his shoulder.

“I don’t either, but we have to be careful. Nothing changes in the public eye. I’d hate to have to kill someone for speaking bad about you.”

Natasha smiled. “I’m a better shot than you.”

“That has not been established as fact,” Wolf replied, sounding more like Stark than an N’din boy new to town.

**Author's Note:**

> Marvel does not touch on it, but in the Old West White women who went Indian were ridiculed and sometimes killed. Most if not all of the Native American tribes on the great plains, the ones I am familiar with, treated women respectfully and the sense of community was more powerful than in the white settlements.
> 
> I pondered the notion of actually getting inside Wolf's head more than I did, but it came up conflicted. He likes Natasha, she's a trusted deputy, but you know the thought will be there...this is the only woman I have sex with, While a fact I didn't think it too noble for him to have those thoughts.


End file.
